


An Excess of Grace

by SillyBlue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Unexpected Parenthood, implied past mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1746311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyBlue/pseuds/SillyBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The peace after the successful closing of the Hell Gates is disrupted by the sudden disappearance of Castiel. Dean spends three months waiting, praying, worrying and trying out every summoning spell he can find. </p>
<p>When Cas does return he's not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Excess of Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following prompt:
> 
> Cas disappearing for a few weeks and returning with a baby he says is his and Dean’s except they’ve never had sex and Dean’s still determinately ignoring his feelings for Cas.

Dean stared into the bowl with its burned out ingredients. The flame had given a tiny, unconvincing, apologetic sputter, then thin smoke had whirled up into Dean’s face. The scent of rosemary, ash, blood and all those other high-end ingredients he had dug out of the bunker’s well-stocked pantry had all gone up in smoke without yielding results.

“Dean…”

“Can it Sammy,” Dean growled and made an angry cross over the page in his notebook. A bust. Like the last 3 rituals before it. Sam didn’t say anything, silently shuffling out of the study again. What else could Sam have said after all? That everything would be okay? That he should not worry about not being able to reach Cas?

“It’s Cas, Dean… He is not exactly defenceless out there,” Sam reminded him when Dean finally made an appearance in the room that served as their living room. “We’ve closed the gates of hell and all’s fine up in Heaven. If anything would have happened to Cas, wouldn’t someone tell us?” Dean looked up from the heavy book he had tossed onto the table with a frown that soon became a mocking sneer.

“What, who? Naomi? I know she came through in the last minute, but don’t forget that she wanted me dead.” Sam made a helpless gesture, looking for some words of help or consolation. Dean felt they were past this now. Cas had been gone for 3 months. Without a word. The last thing he had said to Dean had been something stupidly irrelevant. No matter how many times he replayed the two weeks after they had sealed the gates of Hell he could not come up with any hints that would help him make sense of Castiel being gone.

“Have you actually tried to summon her? Maybe she’d know something,” Sam offered, but Dean levelled a glare at him that got defensive at once. Sam lifted his hands disarmingly. “I know you don’t like her and that you don’t trust her with Cas’ well-being. I _know_ , Dean… But if Cas doesn’t reply to your calls or prayers or summoning rituals that leaves Naomi as the only link we have to him…” Dean looked away from Sam to the scratchy letters on the age worn page.

“I’m starting to think that none of the summoning rituals work,” he muttered and let Sam pull away the old book, clearing a space for Dean to prop his elbows up on the table, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. His head was hurting. He wasn’t sure why Cas’ absence felt like a hole had been blown into his chest, pain rattling in his empty ribcage with every breath and every spoken incantation that failed to bring the angel back.

He had foolishly thought that it would be over now. That Sam closing the gates of hell was the great conclusion to their too long hunt.

There had been silence for two week and they had all been too exhausted to properly feel that they had, for once, really achieved something without causing even greater loss. Cas had been on the brink of falling, with nothing but a few defiant sparks of Grace left after keeping Sam alive through the trials. But he had been recovering too and Dean had liked it. He had liked seeing Cas bleary-eyed in the mornings, seeing him noiselessly wandering the corridors in his too big pyjamas he had borrowed from Sam and Dean. He liked having him in the kitchen, in the library, in the sitting room. He liked finding his tea cups all over the bunker. He liked cleaning up after him, he liked stumbling over Cas asleep in random places or finding him reverently touch random objects. There was something about Cas in the Bunker that made Dean’s heart swell.

And he had thought that this was it. That it would continue much in the same vein for the rest of their lives. He had thought that Cas would stay.

But then Dean had found him dozing off in empty room with a high ceiling made up mostly of small panelled windows, covered by dirt and leaves that had piled up for decades. Almost no light had come in, but Castiel had curled up in a corner where a small beam of light had reached.

“Plants would grow nicely in here,” he had said before Dean had half carried him to his room, feeling delighted, feeling something inexplicable and exhilarating and perfect in his stomach. He had no name for it, it needed no name because it was just the way it was. Cas was not gone, Cas was not locked up in Heaven, he was here, almost human. Dean had said his good nights and closed the door, feeling that things had now fallen into place.

Cas had been gone the next day.

“Dean… Dean, it’s okay… We’ll find him,” Sam assured him, his hand on Dean’s shoulder calling him out of his memory. His eyes felt hot, so he didn’t dare to take away his hands.

“Yeah…,” was all Dean managed to say. He nodded to a couple more things his brother said to him, the careful words mostly passing Dean by. Sam left the Bunker shortly after that to head to the nearest bakery.

Dean pulled himself to his feet to go make some coffee.

“Dammit, Cas… Where are you?”, he asked into the emptiness of the kitchen. Cas had been silent too, never talking much, never taking up much space, but the Bunker felt bereft without Cas, Kevin back to a normal life and Sam currently out. Dean hated it. He hated how he had come to depend on whatever hope he had carried all his life that one day it would be over. One day he could have what he never allowed himself.

When he came back into what they used as their living room he almost dropped the coffee and the plates for the pie. Because Cas was standing there, his face pale but cheeks red and eyes shining.

“Dean,” he said, voice rough as always but his mouth pulled into a smile that made the skin around his eyes crinkle slightly. “I’m back.” There was wonder in his voice and Dean quickly placed everything on the table to stare at Cas, nothing but the sturdy table between the two of them.

Cas was wearing his trench coat and normal clothes underneath even though his hair was hanging into his face and he was holding something in his arms. The something was easily identified as a baby though Dean doubted that he was seeing straight. Because there was absolutely no logical reason why Cas would be cradling a child to his chest.

Dean couldn’t even say how glad he was that Cas was back, he could not shout at him for not getting in touch for 3 months. He could simply stare and wait for the blow. Something had happened and the baby in Cas’ arms had to be connected to that in some way.

Cas looked at him expectantly, but when nothing came, his face fell slightly, like that last time Dean had given him the cold shoulder.

“Uh… Uhm, this is Emmanuel,” he said, taking a couple of steps around the table, but there were still two chairs between them. He lifted the child up a bit, causing it to turn its head. It wasn’t a new-born Dean assumed. It already had quite a bit of light brown hair and strikingly blue eyes, lighter than Cas’.

“Emmanuel?” Dean repeated incredulously after a beat and Cas looked at him apologetically.

“It was the first name that came to my mind,” he said and it was Dean who crossed the distance between them to look at the child. He looked perfectly ordinary and something about him reminded him of Sammy as a baby.

“And why did you have to come up with a name anyway?” he asked and rubbed his forehead. “Please… Please don’t tell me you knocked up a chick.”

“I did not…” Castiel seemed to struggle a bit because his arms weren’t free to make air quotes. “Knock up a chick,” he finally said. “I am physically incapable of doing that. My vessel cannot produce semen as long as I inhabit it, as-“

“Okay!” Dean stopped him, lifting both his hands. “Okay, I got it. Not your baby, but that doesn’t explain why you’ve been gone for 3 months without a word and why you show up with… with Emmanuel!” Castiel looked up from the child, his eyebrows drawn down.

“But Dean, this _is_ my baby,” he said and Dean gaped at him. Then he lifted his hands, took a breath and decided that he’d better sit for this. Castiel pulled out the chair opposite Dean and sat down as well, waiting for Dean to lift his head again.

“Please, explain it in a way that will make sense to me,” Dean said at last, looking at Cas and not at the child.

“I remember going to sleep in the Bunker and waking up in Heaven. Naomi had pulled me up. She told me that the spell I had started due to Metatron’s deception had altered me and that I had to be in Heaven to safely see it through. I did not only collect the heart of a Nephilim but also the bow of a cupid, making my Grace more potent. It became a creative power which was just what Metatron needed for his plan to remake Heaven. If Metatron had had his way he would have used it for a terrible, powerful spell. But since we defeated him before worse things happened, I had all that power within me without knowing what could happen. Or what had already happened to me because of it. Naomi said that the change in the nature of my Grace allowed me to save Sam and the only reason that I did not fall was because some of my Grace had become sentient and clung to me. Stubborn like a Winchester, she had said.”

“So that’s a… Grace baby?” Dean asked, studying Emmanuel, who returned Dean’s contemplative stare almost unblinkingly. But other than when Cas was staring, Emmanuel was smiling all the time.

“No. It’s a Nephilim, one of the Winchester bloodline,” Cas explained and Dean clenched his hands, feeling like Cas had dropped a bucket of ice down his pants.

“ _What_?”

“It’s not only my child, Dean. It’s yours too.” Dean was staring at the angel and the… little angel dude in Castiel’s arms.

Sam chose that moment to return with two plastic bags, but before he could open his mouth to comment on Castiel’s reappearance, Dean – without taking his eyes off Emmanuel – said:

“Cas had a baby.” He knew his tone sounded almost accusing, but he kind of felt way out of his depth here.

“Oooh. Okay. Uhm? I guess I leave you two to talk that through then?” he offered faintly, coming closer to put the pie on the table and grab the still warm coffee. “Congratulations you two I think?” He looked over Castiel’s shoulder. “He’s cute.”

“Thank you,” Castiel replied with some pride.

“Dude! I didn’t do anything, it’s not-“ But Sam lifted his hand, ignoring Dean’s protests and went to his room. Dean groaned.

“I did not expect you to be very receptive to Emmanuel but I also didn’t think you to be completely adverse to him either. I know that you are a good father…”

“I’m not a good father. How could you possibly say that?” Dean lifted his head, a pained expression on his face. Castiel remained silent for a while, but then he pulled his chair a bit closer until his knees were touching Dean’s. He touched the boy’s cheeks, getting Emmanuel to snuggle into his elbow with a content sigh. Dean observed Castiel’s face, saw the gentle expression, that careful smile and adoring look. It brought that odd, perfect feeling back to Dean’s chest, chasing away the terrible emptiness Castiel’s absence had caused.

“Dean,” he started, turning his head to smile at Dean. “I have faith in you as I never had faith in anybody else. If there’s anyone who could raise this child well, then it is you,” he said and Dean swallowed audibly, feeling his throat close with emotion. “But I know it’s not easy. It might not be what you want to do. So I have to leave you this choice.”

“Thanks… Thank you, Cas,” he said wiping at his hot, but fortunately dry eyes. He wasn’t sure why this messed him up this way. Maybe he was just tired. He cleared his throat. “Uh… So how exactly is he my kid? I mean we didn’t have sex, hell, I didn’t even think we were anywhere near going into that direction. Ever.” Cas, the bastard, had the gall to chuckle. “Dude. Not cool.” Because as far as Dean was concerned there had been no epic love story in the making. Sure, Cas was cool, Cas was actually the best thing that ever happened to him in terms of people that were not his family, but there was a big difference between being best friends and being best friends who had a kid together. He wasn’t a traditional guy but he thought that he should at least be crushing on Cas before baby having even appeared on the horizon of possibilities.

“My apologies. Usually copulating is required for an angel to become pregnant. Emmanuel is not a proper Nephilim, but due to us spending so much time together and me still having your entire genetic code memorized from rebuilding you after hell, the child that was forming took on your form. That it became a child at all was probably due to my regard for you.”

“Your regard?” Dean asked in confusion.

“My love for you,” he clarified. “I was never averse to go into a direction that would lead to us having sex,” Castiel told him and there was no joking smile, nothing mocking in his tone and that odd comfortable glow in Dean’s stomach suddenly got sharper contours. He was crushing on Cas. Was that it? Was he actually, seriously, crushing on Cas? More than that even, because he had never felt that sort of peace with another person than he had felt with Cas in those two weeks after they had closed hell.

“You’re serious?”

“I love you, Dean. I hope that we can raise him together,” Castiel told him and Dean took a sharp breath.

“Yeah okay,” he breathed out after a while before he could say anything stupid. Castiel did the crinkly nose smile thing again and then he lent forwards to press a kiss to Dean’s lips. And that was new, the feeling of stubbles against Dean’s face, but Castiel’s lips were soft and the kiss chaste. And Dean liked new. New was awesome. “Was that kiss meant to seal the deal?”

“What deal?” Castiel asked.

“The raising a kid together, ‘let’s try to actually have sex at one point’ kind of deal,” he replied and Castiel smiled at him.

“I’d like that, yes...” Castiel said and Dean thought how odd it was. He had spent 3 months searching everywhere for Cas and now he didn’t only have a boyfriend, but also a baby. When he had woken up in the morning he hadn’t even had a proper clue that he was in fact in love with Cas.

Castiel gave him the child, who was a lot heavier than he actually looked. Emmanuel woke up and Dean was again the recipient of a brilliant, happy smile.

“Emmanuel chose you as his father, he knows that you will do well,” Castiel explained when Dean was only silently staring at the child. _His_ child.

“And you really could not think of a better name?” he quipped after a while. Instead of replying at once, Castiel reached over the table to put the pie on the plates. Sam was making his way back from his room with an unnecessary amount of noise, probably to let them know he was coming back.

“I know lots of names, Dean. It was the first I had ever chosen for myself. It felt familiar and I liked it. What would you have called him?” Sam didn’t interrupt their discussion, merely accepting the plate and curiously eying his nephew.

“What?” Dean said, looking down at the boy with a small frown “I… I don’t know. John? Robert? Henry?”

“You’re not more imaginative than I am, Dean,” Castiel commented flatly and Sam had to laugh.

“Hey Sam, I have a child,” Dean said excitedly, softly lifting Emmanuel for Sam to see. He took one of Emmanuel’s little fists to make him wave at Sam.

“Well done, Dean,” Sam replied with a laugh, then he turned to Cas. “So you’ll stay?”

“Yes, Sam.”

“We’ll need to get you a fake ID. And I’ll have to paint a nursery for Emmanuel and get him a birth certificate,” Dean said and finally turned towards his pie. “We’ll be awesome parents,” he decided.

“If that room with the high windows is still empty it might be a nice nursery,” Castiel mused.

“Whatever you want, Cas,” Dean promised. Castiel put his palms on Dean’s thigh, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Dean grinned around a mouthful of pie and didn’t notice that Sam had taken a picture with his phone.

“Aw, you’re so cute,” Sam said with a laugh and before Dean could say anything his brother had already sent the snapshot off to Charlie and Kevin. Dean didn’t even feel like complaining, because this was great. He had his brother and his sort of boyfriend and his son in the bunker which now felt like home again. And there was pie.

It was kind of odd but it was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
